Stormy (Cerberus MC #29) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Cerberus MC Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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I want to open my mouth and blurt all my fears, confess all my mistakes. I want to beg forgiveness. I want to bitch about all the things in life that aren’t fair.

Those wants make me realize just how long it’s been since I’ve had someone I could vent to, an adult who might be able to chime in with advice or, at minimum, is willing to complain about the stuff going on in their lives. Janet was that person for me. Even though it had been a year before her death that I was given the opportunity for that, I always thought we’d have a chance to make up. I didn’t see my entire life being spent alone. I never imagined there was a chance I’d lose my sister.

“Can I hold you?”

A tear streaks down my cheek, the soft pillowcase under my head catching it.

“Please,” I say, revealing more than I probably should about my need for him.

The smart thing to do would be to turn him down. My head has already half claimed this man just by our connection through Sutton. It’s a very dangerous position to put myself in, but I just need some connection.

When he scoots closer, his warm arm wrapping around my middle, I try to convince myself that it’s just the physical comfort that I need. It has nothing to do with him specifically. He could literally be anyone and it would feel the same.

“Quiet your mind,” he says, his words shooting the warmth of his breath over my neck and shoulder.

“I’m trying,” I promise, but then he presses his lips against the nape of my neck, and sleep is the absolute last thing on my mind.

Chapter 21

Stormy

I’m both relieved and annoyed to wake up and see Mila walking around the hotel room. I know if she were still in bed with me, I wouldn’t be capable of keeping my hips from pressing forward against her back. I was able to maintain a few inches of distance last night, but my brain isn’t fully online first thing in the morning, and my morning erection usually controls a little more of my body than I like to admit.

Morning sex has always been a favorite of mine. It’s always been a difficult choice of mine, whether I urge a woman out of my space before sleep or keep her there. For me, there’s just something about that time right after waking up when you’re still half asleep and just giving into what your body is demanding. For the woman, it’s an open door for them to want more, to think that you’re willing to give them more than what you promised the night before, which has always been a great night of sex and no expectations. There’s something about waking up with women that makes them think a man has changed his mind. So as much as I like morning sex, I don’t get it very often. Not that I’d get it this morning considering the three kids in the room with us.

I feel like I missed out on that part with her the night we spent together because she left the room before we fell asleep together. I don’t know if I’ll ever get it again. Hell, is that even a line I want to cross?

I can easily say she’s hot as hell. Physically, I’m incredibly attracted to her, and that attraction hasn’t declined in the time we’ve spent together. It’s honestly possible that it’s grown while watching her tend to the kids.

“Do they have the same kind of waffles we ate yesterday?” Jace asked, his voice loud in the room.

“Shh,” she urges, her eyes darting in my direction.

I smile at her when she notices my eyes are open.

“Sorry,” she mutters as she pulls Sutton from the rollaway crib. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m not super stealthy like you are. I have a hard time being quiet.”

I roll my lips between my teeth to keep from smiling. I’m very aware of just how loud she can be.

She looks away, telling me I wasn’t as quick to hide my response as I’d hoped I was.

It’s only fair after the way she mentioned how tight I’ve held her wrists last night. I still feel guilty for the things I did in the bathroom last night because of how close the kids were, despite them all being asleep.

“I just keep sticking my foot in it,” she mutters before urging the boys out of the bed to use the bathroom and wash their faces.

“My face is fine,” Luca grumbles.

“Take your clothes with you so you can change out of your pajamas,” she says rather than arguing with the child.

I roll over, my back toward the bathroom so I can face more in her direction. Despite knowing I’m awake, she doesn’t bother turning on the light. The room is cast in a haze of filtered light coming in around the edges of the curtains. I swear hotels purposely make it impossible to block out all light because they want everyone who stays to be up with the sun and out of the room soon after.


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